


The Man & the chase - or how destiny works

by WanderingBandurria



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alcohol, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - No Voldemort, Ambiguous/Open Ending, Auror Sirius Black, Awkwardness, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Ethical Dilemmas, Flirting, Fluff, Getting Together, Getting to Know Each Other, Happy Ending, Happy Sex, Illegal Activities, Life Changing Decisions, Literature, M/M, Mentions of other characters - Freeform, Mild Language, Remus Lupin Never Went to Hogwarts, Secret Identity, Smut, Stalking, barely hidden metaphor of pharma industry, not really but it might feel like that at the beginning, power, smoking in pubs, so better to be careful if it triggers you, this is set in the 80s, werewolves rights, wizards and muggles relationships
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-30
Updated: 2020-10-30
Packaged: 2021-03-08 19:00:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,117
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27281590
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WanderingBandurria/pseuds/WanderingBandurria
Summary: Auror Sirius Black feels like he's so, so close to figuring out the boring case he was assigned. After that, he can move to more important things.But then he makes his first big mistake of his career: he decides to go sit down in the same pub as his prime suspect. It was just supposed to be some harmless intimidation tactic.It doesn’t seem to work with the guy.
Relationships: Sirius Black/Remus Lupin
Comments: 14
Kudos: 145





	The Man & the chase - or how destiny works

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! So I got a prompt but my brain run away with it and ended up creating this extremely self-indulgent fic that I really like and I hope you might enjoy.
> 
> Please consider that there’s explicit sexual content here. The characters might be a bit OOC for you (of course since it’s an AU - but still, I’m really pushing things here); there's stalker-ish behaviour (it really isn’t, but it feels like that at the beginning, so be warned if you think you might get triggered! It’s only in the first few paragraphs until you have the context), morally grey decisions, and very, very snobbish and local literature references that will be mentioned in the end notes.
> 
> As usual, all my gratefullness is with my amazing beta, LikeABellThroughTheNight, who is always incredible supportive and helps me with every whimse of my heart. Still, since English is my second lenguage, there might be some mistakes and weird sounding phrases (my bad!). If you see anything that doesn't make sense, please, please let me know. I love improving my English and feedback is very important to me.
> 
> And with that, I hope you enjoy this!

\---

Sirius opens the doors of the pub, and at the same time the smoke hits him, he feels the eyes on him. _Those eyes_ , those brown, warm, mocking eyes. He turns to his left and there’s the man - _Remus Lupin_ , his brain provides, even though he has to act like he doesn’t know his name, his parents’ names, or his previous known work address. Remus looks at Sirius with a scornful smile on his lips, so Sirius smirks at him and tips his imaginary hat before letting himself fall heavily and ungracefully on the chair of the table adjacent to Remus’ that is miraculously empty, as usual. 

Remus always takes one of the single tables lined by the pub’s dirty yellow-and-purple-tinted glass window. He’s always alone too, so Sirius has a full, open view of the man over both their tables. 

Remus looks back at him, shakes his head - Sirius is not sure if at his mocking salute, or if at his clumsiness -, and goes back to reading. Or at least, he pretends to read; Sirius is not sure if he ever truly manages to focus in the smoke-charged room, with the boisterous noise, and Sirius’ eyes fixed on him.

He _hopes_ its all an act. Remus is always so composed and cold, so distant from the world, that there’s nothing that Sirius would like more than seeing his façade crack.

He _hopes_ he can distract Remus, make his mind reel and turn the words in the paper pages of his book meaningless. He hopes he makes Remus flustered to the point that images start popping in his mind - how Sirius’ skin would feel, how his mouth would taste, how he would look down on his knees in front of him... But _no_ , that’s absolutely not what this is about, he chastises himself. He hopes it’s an act, he corrects himself, because he _wants_ Remus getting nervous not because of him, but because of his investigation. He wants him to _feel_ how Sirius is putting the clues together, how he’s near to close this _fucking_ case and go back to work on things that are actually related to justice. There’s nothing he wants more than to help people in need, instead of acting like the lapdog of the fucking _big potioneers_ and their petty games of copyright.

He shakes his head, willing his mind to move to more productive, gleeful topics. He looks to the ceiling before raising his hand to order his usual - an absolutely appropriate and well-deserved beer - and then he slams his elbow against the table when putting down his arm. _Fuck_. He’s more tired than he realized. Remus smiles to himself as he raises his coffee cup to his lips. Based on how his nostrils flutter, Sirius would put his money on him not only smiling, but actually _snorting_. 

_Really?_ he thinks with disbelief, with his pride slightly bruised, _this guy, this, this - Remus Lupin, he is just ridiculous. Who goes to a pub to have coffee? Moreover, who would come to this pub, where the coffee probably tastes like socks, if their food and drinks are anything to go by_? he adds to himself, with vengeance. _And who does he think he’s fooling?_ he asks himself, because Remus is not fooling Sirius, not at all - he _knows_ the book is only a cover, he can feel Remus’ whole attention on him, and his reactions are, evidently, reactions to Sirius’ actions. 

He gets his beer from the grumpy waiter - he didn’t like Sirius since he set foot on the pub for the first time, but he still brings him his beer every week, _like he’s a fucking local._ Sirius goes back on his tracks to think about his case. _Maybe_ this research is not the most related thing to social justice, and it’s not what he thought he would do as an Auror when he got into the field, but at least he has had fun with this cat-and-mouse chase. Remus, or whoever is behind this operation, is extremely smart and has made a simple black-market, easy-to-track sounding case, an intricate labyrinth of dead-ends, and grey ethical stances about creatures and beings rights, social welfare, and Muggle-and-wizards relationships.

His beer tastes like water and something that should remind him of barley, but at least it’s cold. Remus looks up from his book and smiles crookedly yet again at Sirius. He actually has the _audacity_ to bite, slowly, his bottom lip with his canine, as he shows his uneven teeth. Sirius is not sure if he should feel threatened - _he does_ \- but he mostly feels turned on, and that’s fucking stupid, but after watching this guy having his coffee and smiling coldly at him for almost a month, he’s a bit resigned to his cock getting a mind of its own about what it feels for the main suspect of his case.

As Remus looks back down to his book, clearly satisfied with himself, Sirius takes another large sip of beer. He tips the glass too fast though, so some of it slides by his cheek. He feels himself blush as he tries to regain control of his over-driven, horny self, as he takes a bunch of paper serviettes that don't absorb anything. 

He thinks idly about his own ethics and how he can barely stand the rancid power moves of the big potion companies, nor the power they hold over the Auror office to keep an investigation going for _as long as it takes._ He might even have his own ideas about open-resources and accessibility of some potions for basic human rights ( _wizards rights_ at least at first, he thinks bitterly), but in the end, he works for the fucking Aurors. 

Moreover, he might not be completely sure about his personal stance on this business, but he has to take into account Moody and his grumpy _if these people -_ the ones trafficking the potion, he meant - _only care about money, Black, and they usually do, that means that they are willing to put a sub-par product out there that can do more harm than good. Harm to people that are already desperate and vulnerable, and willing to give however little they have for a promise of a solution_. 

Still, Sirius is not completely sure how different that promise is from the one made by the official Wolfsbane companies that don’t assure a 100% success rate either, but demand that people spend galleons and galleons on it. 

He takes another gulp of his lager - it still tastes like cold piss. With a tired sigh, he takes a notebook out of his jacket. He knows he’s off the clock, and these weird Friday “measure-up-sessions” with Lupin are not really part of his job, but if he’s here and his mind is already reeling with ideas for work, he better put his time to good use. He thinks he probably has half an hour before Lupin leaves - more than enough time to brainstorm.

He gets distracted almost immediately because the waiter decides to stop by Remus’ table. They start talking animatedly about football, and Sirius frowns and tries to focus on his notes. _Right_ , _Lupin is a Muggle, he knows about fucking football and he’s able to talk normally with other Muggles_ , Sirius thinks more bitterly than he wished. 

Jealousy is not a good suit for him, and his denial of his attraction to the man doesn’t stop the surge of anger in his stomach.

This is actually one of the most interesting pieces of the puzzle that is the case - if Remus _is_ a Muggle and _is_ the head of this operation, it means this whole business is highly unique. Remus can be a werewolf even if he’s a Muggle, alright, but he shouldn’t have the magic to make the potion - it doesn’t matter if he has the interest in it. 

Sirius would put his money on Remus being a werewolf. He doesn’t have confirmation yet, but Remus has some scars on his face, he seemed particularly tired on a Friday two days after the full, and he was very entertained, more than surprised, at Sirius’ incompetence with Muggle money the first time Sirius appeared in the pub. That, on its own, indicated to Sirius that he had some sort of contact with the Magical World.

Or maybe he thought Sirius was a tourist.

That first day Sirius showed up here - what an idiotic decision that was. He had tracked Remus down, learnt about this little ritual of his on Friday nights, but then Sirius’ sleep-deprived brain decided it was a good idea to go in to have a look at the man, and maybe try to intimidate him, send the message that _he’s closing in around him,_ that _he knows who he is_. 

The fact that he has kept coming back every Friday after that, is as stupid as that first time was, but Sirius is not sure that the reasons are still the same.

If Remus is a Muggle werewolf, he tries to get his mind back on track, he shouldn’t be able to prepare the potion. He shouldn’t know much about it either, aside from some rumours. The research on his family hasn’t shown any wizard in it, so no one should be doing it for him either - unless there’s a boyfriend or girlfriend, but Sirius doesn’t think there’s one. He hasn’t dug deep into that, he just… sort of hopes there isn’t someone. 

Lupin shouldn’t have the magic to make the potion by himself either. Lupin didn’t go to Hogwarts (he should have been in Sirius’ school year, so he would know) and Sirius _knows_ Dumbledore has had some Werewolves in the school in the years after Sirius’ ones, so he’s fairly certain the old Headmaster would’ve done everything in his power to include a magical kid. 

He had also checked with specialists that being turned into a werewolf doesn’t give you magic, in case Remus had been bitten in later years, so it is as simple as that - Remus is not a wizard, but maybe he’s a werewolf who has managed, somehow, to make illegal wolfsbane and traffic it.

Sirius frowns at his own notes. On the other hand, him being a Muggle would explain why most of the illegal potion has been sold to Muggle werewolves and low-income Muggle-borns, if his sources are correct. His frown deepens at that - just here, there’s a lack of certainty that still bothers him. He hasn’t managed to catch anyone who has used the potion yet. Everyone involved in this business - buyers, sellers, even middlemen - close ranks as soon as the Aurors sniff too closely. No one cracks or sells information, and the regular snitches and “information gatherers” in the underworld have only heard vague rumours; even known smugglers are bitter because they have been kept out of the transaction and have nothing to offer to Sirius. 

All that surrounds the operation is silent and secured, and Sirius is pissed off with that. Still, since his research started, there was no doubt this business is real, since the official potion has lost a lot of buyers and werewolves’ tracking systems have shown a lot of registered individuals behaving _like_ they are under the potion on the full moon, even though they deny taking it.

He only managed to reach his final confirmation by getting his hands on a vial of the unofficial version of the potion a bit less than a month ago, after a raid that forced people to leave things behind to hide themselves. Upon analyzing the potion, he was surprised to find out that it was flawless. _Actually_ perfect. Maybe even better than the official one.

(So there goes Moody idea about it being harmful, although Sirius _knows_ he shouldn't draw conclusions based on the content just one vial)

Sirius passes one hand over his forehead and his hair, and his eyes dart up as soon as his peripheral vision catches Remus standing up. The waiter is no longer with him, and Remus is looking straight at him, his eyes full of intensity as he sets a couple of bills over the table. Sirius is so focused on those eyes, that he barely catches the movements of his hands.

Remus walks then towards the exit - and that means he’s going to pass by Sirius’ table. Sirius follows his movements, and when Remus slides by - merely an inch from Sirius’ table -, Sirius swallows and looks up at him, knowing his desire is probably clear in his eyes. _Shit_ , he hasn’t had such a transparent reaction to a man in _years_ , if not _ever._

Remus slows down and Sirius hears his soft voice for the first time, as he lowers his head, smirks, and says, “Have a good night, _sir_.”

Sirius’ mouth is dry, his cock half-hard, and his neck contorted as he follows Remus’ back out of the pub and into the street. Remus doesn’t stop to look back once.

He’s jolted back into reality a couple of minutes later by the waiter clearing his throat and calling him “Sir.” Remus disappeared a while ago, but Sirius’ eyes remained in the corner where he last saw him. He turns back, ashamed, and the waiter gives him a postcard. “The gentleman from the next table left this for you,” he says, before frowning and adding, “do you want another pint?”

Sirius accepts the postcard and shakes his head, and the waiter leaves. It’s the first time something like this has happened. The first time that Remus has acknowledged his presence not only with his small smiles, but also with those parting words - and now, with a postcard for him.

The postcard shows a brick wall, and on it, there are some letters cut out of the paper pasted over it. A _bricolage_ , Sirius thinks it’s called. 

_Un flic dort en chacun de nous, il faut le tuer,_ the colourful letters say.

His French is rusty, but he manages to decipher it after blinking a couple of times to get his mind back on track. 

_There is a cop sleeping inside each one of us._

_We must kill him._

With his heart beating out of control, he turns the postcard.

_France, May 1968._

_I thought you might like the quote._

_R._

Well. He’s not certain, but he thinks he’s fucked.

\---

On the next Friday, Sirius goes into the pub and walks straight to Remus’ table, pulls out the chair in front of him and sits down.

If Remus is surprised by this, he hides it pretty fast.

“What if I’m waiting for someone today?” he asks with a big smile, as he picks up the coffee cup, his hand steady and his movements measured.

“You never meet with anyone here; but if you want me to, I can go back to my table,” he says, shrugging as he takes off his scarf with difficulty. _Damn_ , _why is he always so clumsy around this man? He’s usually the image of coolness and body control, but he turns into a hot mess as soon as those eyes are looking at him._

“Not quite,” Lupin says smiling after sipping on his coffee. “So, I gather you liked the postcard?” he asks like it means nothing - like he hadn’t been trying to pass a message with that piece of cardboard.

And maybe he didn’t mean anything with it; maybe Sirius has mixed up the clues and he’s chasing the wrong man, and maybe Remus was just flirting, or something like that.

“I did. Have never heard the phrase, though,” he says, and he signs to the waiter for his beer, ignoring the pointed look he gets, given his unusual position on Remus’ table.

“Really?” Remus asks, and he closes his book and sets his forearms on the table to loom closer to Sirius, all ease and grace. “It’s pretty famous if you know anything about the student’s movement of May, 68 in Paris. You’ve probably heard it before - unless you were living under a rock. Or separated and hidden from most of the world,” he says as he shrugs. Under the table, he extends his legs, his feet bumping Sirius’. 

Sirius feels a wave of heat at the contact.

“Everything good, Remus?” The waiter asks as he puts the beer in front of Sirius, his voice cold and carrying the exact amount of threat to Sirius. Remus just smiles charmingly and nods, so the waiter leaves them alone.

“He’s always pretty worried about you, isn’t he?” he asks, and he cringes at how bitter he sounds, so he takes a swing of his pale ale. He gulps tons of air with the beer, his mouth too open to avoid spilling the liquid on his face.

Remus smiles like it’s his birthday.

“What, are you jealous?” and as Sirius chokes, his smirk grows bigger in his face. “You know he treats all patrons the same, right? If you would only talk with him a bit, I’m sure he would check on you too, if you are ever approached by another man that looks at you threatening across the pub week after week,” he says coyly, before taking another sip of his coffee. 

Sirius is about to answer - maybe say something about the _waiter_ eyeing _Remus_ week after week, but he suddenly realizes that maybe the waiter doesn’t check on Remus because he _likes_ him, but because he’s a powerful costumer. If Remus really is an underworld boss, he would be someone to watch for. 

Lupin moves his feet to graze the back of Sirius’ calf with the tip of his shoe, and Sirius suddenly loses his thread of thought.

“So, are you going to tell me your name, mister…?” Remus can’t look more pleased with himself, Sirius thinks, but he can’t even muster his anger, so he just shakes his head.

“I think you know my name,” he says, raising his chin, even though his voice sounds like it’s about to crack.

“Oh?” Remus asks, smiling softly. “I’m afraid I don’t though - unless we have met before? I’m sure I wouldn’t have forgotten a face like yours,” Remus says, resting his back on the chair and pulling away his feet. He’s the perfect picture of innocence.

“Black,” Sirius says, swallowing nervously, before remembering that he also has cards in his hand. _Right_ , he might feel like a flustered schoolboy, but he can fake it - he has done it before, so he can do it now; so he smirks before passing his thumb over his lips. Lupin looks at the gesture and seems to lose his cool for just a second, his eyes getting just a tiny bit darker before his face looks blank again. “Sirius Black,” he adds, satisfied with the reaction, before drinking his beer, managing to do it like a normal human being this time.

“Hm, an unusual name. I’m sure your family is quite into astronomy,” Remus muses, before signalling for another coffee to the waiter. 

It’s the first time he’s doubling. It probably means he intends to stay and accept Sirius’ challenge.

“As yours is all about wolves,” he answers fast, looking Remus up and down, gauging his reaction.

“More like into mythology and bad puns, given how my father chose my name already knowing the family surname - Lupin, by the way,” he says with a smile and shiny eyes. “So, at what do I owe the honour of having you at my table tonight, Sirius?” 

Sirius shrugs.

“Just thought it was about time for me to come introduce myself. Especially after the postcard,” he says, raising his chin.

“Well,” Remus says, receiving his coffee from the waiter after muttering _thanks_ , “I’m glad you did. I appreciate the company. Maybe you can tell me a bit about yourself then? What do you do for a living, Sirius?” he asks, his eyes cold and shining again.

Sirius grits his teeth and gazes darkly at Remus. He just stays there, smiling complacently with his cold, brown eyes, but as Sirius stays silent, his smile turns more predatory.

“Alright, alright, so, if you can’t tell me about it, is there anything you would like to talk about tonight? I’m sure you didn’t come to sit with me only to appreciate my face up close,” he asks with a self-deprecating tone, as he takes a sip of his coffee.

“I think you know why I’m here,” he says, feeling his muscles on his neck tightening, ready to fight if he has to - but Remus just rolls his eyes and looks at the ceiling, looking slightly pissed off.

“I assure you I don’t. But if you don’t know what to talk about, you don’t have to act all grumpy. I can tell you about the book I was reading, how about that?” he asks with a neutral look on his face.

Sirius looks at him, cocking his head, not sure what to make of Lupin. _Is this a clue? Is he really trying to make small talk? Why, for gods’ sake, did Sirius decide to come into the pub a month ago?_

This is all so unprofessional on his side, and if he ever accuses Remus, the whole case could fall apart if Remus pins him for harassment. 

“Go on then,” he says in the end, and Remus smiles sweetly, making Sirius’ heart jump in his ribcage.

“It’s a different one from the one I had been reading the past few weeks, but both of them feel sort of similar - both of them are books originally written in Spanish, where reality and dreams seem to mix up. This one, in particular, is a collection of short stories; I was just reading a story about a man being chased, and a man chasing him. They don’t have names until much later, and all you know at the beginning is that one of them is chasing the other, wanting to end him,” he says with his measured expression, and Sirius feels his own skin like a mask over his skull as he tries to keep himself in check, but excitement bubbles inside of him at the possible information Remus is about to convey. “It’s a sad story. The man being chased is guilty, of course, but he’s not inhuman - he builds bonds and cries about his family and even for the people he killed. The other man, on the other hand…” he says, and shrugs.

“What about the other man?” Sirius asks, his voice tight in spite of himself.

“He’s consumed by his emotions and a sense of duty. His actions will have consequences too, since he empties his gun on the head of the man he was chasing.” 

Sirius blinks at him, and slowly, he smiles, as he takes a sip of his beer.

“His actions _will_ have consequences? Doesn’t the story tell you about them?”

“No, it doesn’t. It ends up with the police investigating and threatening to imprison a farmer, just because he helped the man being chased, without knowing his crimes. It’s not a really flattering take on the justice system,” he says, and Sirius suddenly feels seen and at a loss, all at the same time. He thought they were talking about, well, _them,_ and to some degree, maybe they are, but apparently, there’s just an extent in which the metaphor works.

He’s just not sure where are the limits between the metaphor and the text.

Remus smiles at him. 

“Do you want me to tell you about the other stories in the book?” he asks, with that delicate smile that seems completely genuine; like Remus is really at ease in this conversation - and that stirs something in Sirius’ heart.

He nods, so Remus starts talking animatedly - he talks about dogs barking and how the sound symbolizes death; and about a land that didn’t bear fruit, and people taking long walks through deserts. Sirius finds himself sitting on the edge of the chair as he listens to names and towns he has never heard of, and social processes halfway across the world he had no idea about. 

After fifteen minutes, he’s no longer trying to follow the metaphors and how it might be related to what they are doing - Remus’ voice is captivating and soft as he talks about symbolism and death and ghosts.

Not _real_ ghosts, but Muggle ones. 

Later at night, while he lies on his bed, a pang of guilt sets in his stomach as he asks himself _what is he doing_ , bonding with this man.

He doesn’t have an answer and sleep doesn’t seem to want to come to him, so sighing, he gets up and picks a Muggle novel from his bookcase. His ex left it there a couple of years ago and Sirius never bothered to donate it.

Now, he’s grateful for the weird pull-and-push that the book offers, making him feel closer to Remus, at the same time that it’s a welcomed distraction from his thoughts about the man’s voice and lips.

\---

The next week, Remus tells him about the book he was reading before the short-stories one. The waiter keeps an eye on them all the time, and if he’s not Remus’ boyfriend (or girlfriend’s brother, maybe), then this is definitely a place where Remus operates, where there are people taking care of him.

If so, Sirius doesn’t really care by now. He doesn’t even care about his previous “secret agenda” that focused on intimidating this man and gathering information. He had a meeting with the potion companies during the week, after which he left the Auror’s office feeling disgusted with himself. He had had to call James and had gone to his flat to vent about the fucking ways they worked and how they heavily implied that he should torture werewolves to obtain information. James listened and frowned, and then he put a Muggle movie on the telly for them to watch - a taste he had acquired during their school years, as he had tried to impress Lily Evans, with no avail. 

“It’s about this old town lost in Colombia, and this family that lived there for generations,” Remus says. His smile is soft and sweet, and Sirius feels that Remus understands why Sirius’ mind is somewhere else, and that he doesn’t feel hurt for his lack of attention. Sirius refocuses his eyes on Remus and he clumsily picks up his glass to take another sip of beer.

“Tell me about it, then,” he says, as he searches for Remus’ leg under the table to give it a small poke with his feet, making Remus jump in his chair. Remus smiles lazily, and then starts talking about _magic ice_ \- not really magical, he gathers then, but magical for Muggles -, ghosts - _also_ not real ones, again -, an old house and a list of names that Sirius doesn’t remember later when he’s back home.

What he does remember is Remus’ brown eyes shining as he tells him about pests and wars that neither are sure were real or not. What he does remember is Remus’ fingers on the table, and Remus’ smiles at some of Sirius’ questions, and the horrible taste of Remus’ coffee, as he offered him a sip, to try to make a point about it not being _that_ bad.

Two more Fridays pass like that, and Sirius can’t find it on himself to feel ashamed, or to _really_ regret jeopardizing his whole career for a couple of hours per week to hear Remus talk about Latin American literature.

\---

As he walks to the pub next Friday, he feels like a shadow is finally settling over his shoulders. His research has been advancing, and one of his contacts had told him two days ago that he might be able to make a seller talk if Sirius offers them protection. And of course, he will.

Still, he can’t stop himself from coming here again to enjoy Remus’ company, even though the imminence of his capture means their encounters are soon to end.

He doesn’t want to think about the possibility of his whole research being dismissed if Remus, or someone in the pub, talks about their encounters. Sirius has definitely been sloppy, and he can’t think of any scenario in which Remus won’t tell his supervisors about Sirius going to intimidate him in the pub, and then, establishing a sort-of-friendship, sort-of-dating-thing with him. Remus might be able to deny knowing who Sirius was, but Sirius has no chance of saying so.

He knows he’s not actually being sloppy, but plainly fucking things up.

He dismisses the thoughts because he feels there’s nothing else he can do; the pull he feels for Remus that started as sexual attraction fueled by the thrill of the chase has turned so quickly into so much more. He wants to get to know Remus - the real Remus. He wants to hear him ramble about books and learn his motives for being engaged in this business. He wants to understand his life. 

And since Sirius is already in front of the pub, he realizes he won’t back down - he simply can’t. He opens the door of the pub confidently, even in the face of the furrowed brow of the waiter, and then he freezes.

Remus is with someone at his table.

Completely stumped, Sirius stands by the door for a second. Remus doesn’t even look at him - his eyes are fixed in the person in front of him, whose short, red hair looks vaguely familiar to Sirius. 

Trying to shake himself out of his bitter slump, Sirius stumbles at every table on his way to sit behind them, feeling bile in his stomach at the feeling of betrayal, at Remus daring to interrupt the precious equilibrium they had. 

Now Sirius is forced to go back to _actually_ spying on him. To _actually_ use these nights to get some dirt on him. 

He doesn’t like this one bit.

He orders his beer and as the waiter puts it in front of him, Sirius barely looks at him as he thanks him. The waiter sends him a warning look but doesn’t say anything as Sirius’ eyes remain fixed on the slim back of the person talking with Lupin.

Remus looks at him for a second then, his eyebrows furrowed as he talks fast, his whole body engaged in the conversation. There’s barely a spark of recognition in his brown eyes before he turns back to look at the person with him. 

As Sirius’ heart beats faster, Remus slouches back on the chair and looks at the ceiling as the other person starts to talk with gestures of their hands that are vaguely familiar to Sirius. Remus lowers his eyes, takes a big gulp of water - water, not coffee today - as he makes eye contact with Sirius for one second again. Just as fast, though, because his eyes lash back to the person in front of him, his face full of disbelief.

And then he starts to cough, wheeze, and hiccup, all at once, grabbing his throat with one hand and doubling over himself.

Time slows down for Sirius as he looks at Remus _choking_ , and the person in front of him _not doing anything_. He looks around the pub but nobody is paying attention either.

Has Remus been poisoned? Is the person in front of him just patiently waiting for him to drop dead?

_Shit_ , Sirius thinks, panicking, and his hand goes to his boot where he keeps his wand, but he stops himself. Obliviating a whole pub is way out of his magical reach, so he can’t do magic to help Remus. He remembers being taught during his Auror training about this weird Muggle manoeuvre to help people who are choking, but he’s not sure he can pull it off. It’s been _years_ since he learnt it.

Still, before he can doubt himself even further, Remus’ face gets redder and redder, so Sirius stands up and walks the couple of steps that separate them. Remus looks at him with watery eyes, as he keeps wheezing, so Sirius just grabs his arm roughly and pulls him to his feet, before turning him around to embrace him and push his fists in Remus’ belly.

He can hear Remus still coughing as his hands cover Sirius’ own. Weirdly, he tries to pull them away - maybe he doesn’t know of the manoeuvre and he thinks Sirius is attacking him, so with desperation, Sirius searches his memory for options. He remembers then something about throwing the person onto a table and, well, he doesn’t remember what else, so he just pulls away from Remus, grabs his arm again, and throws him, with all his force, to the pub’s bar. 

Remus loses all the air in his lungs with a great _Oof,_ but before he can move, Sirius is covering his back again with his body, grabbing firmly the bar with his hands to push against him. He thinks this is what you were supposed to do, although he’s not sure. He is supposed to put pressure on the person choking, right? 

His own breaths are laboured as he pushes closer and closer, and he can see how the air leaving his nose makes Remus’ hair by his ear sway softly. He feels lightheaded, like he’s the one choking.

He doesn’t realize the whole bar is on their feet until Remus puts a hand up to stop them, and Sirius finally looks beyond Remus’ ear, to see the waiter eyes’ aflame and his sleeves rolled up, like he’s ready to punch Sirius.

Sirius blinks slowly, his chest and hips still flush against Remus’ back.

_Oh._

“As much as this is close to all my daydreams in the last few months,” Remus heaves, turning a bit to look at Sirius’ over his shoulder, a smile playing on his lips. “I’m afraid this is not the right place to do this, Sirius - moreover when I was in the middle of a very important conversation, that sadly, involved you heavily,” and his smile fades, but his eyes stay like thunder.

_Oh._

“Fuck, sorry,” Sirius says, stumbling back quickly and almost falling. He raises his hands in surrender to calm down everyone in the pub. Slowly and reluctantly, they seem to go back to their business. “I thought you were choking, I -”

Remus makes the coughing and choking sound again, but Sirius _does_ see now that his mouth is shaped in a smile.

“That’s only how his laughter sounds, I’m afraid,” a cold voice says from behind Sirius, making him turn fast, even though Remus’ flushing cheeks are a sight he would love to watch forever.

In front of him is Lily Evans. Her hair is short, almost in a boyish cut, and she’s frowning, looking at him with her chin raised.

Sirius is sure James would swoon if he saw her right now, looking so full of determination and anger.

“Oh,” Sirius says, recovering fast, thinking of the words of Remus; _a conversation that sadly, involved you heavily_. What did Evans have to talk about Sirius with Remus? he shakes his head, trying to win some time to put his thoughts together. He forgets to be ashamed about what just happened, so he just smiles at Lily’s words. “That’s the most ridiculous _and_ adorable thing I’ve heard now. I’m sorry for manhandling you,” he says, looking over his shoulder at Remus, who just pushes his lips together to avoid laughing again, as he flushes even further.

And _oh, fuck_ , if Sirius thought he had a _thing_ for the always-composed, cold-mob-boss act, it was simply because he didn’t know he had an even bigger thing for flustered, awkward, ugly-laugh-hider, _human_ Remus Lupin. 

He feels breathless again at Remus’ dark cheeks and shy look through his lashes. He looks so vulnerable that Sirius wants to pull him into his arms and take him away from there - maybe to the countryside, maybe to the beach; he doesn’t really care as far is somewhere they can snog and share their most intimate thoughts.

“I don’t know about _adorable_ , but I do accept your apology for almost breaking my ribs,” Remus says as he shrugs. The blush fades down as he seems to recover his cool, and by the time he passes by Sirius to sit back down, he seems like always, composed and in control, even though some vulnerability remains in his eyes.

Sirius looks back at Lily Evans then, and she looks back at him, her chin still raised.

_Oh._

“You were really gifted at potions at school,” he states, forgetting he’s in the middle of a Muggle pub. _An allegedly Muggle pub,_ he thinks, feeling cold wash over his body, as at least a dozen of eyes stop over him. 

“She still is,” Remus says from the table, taking a sip of water after taking a long breath.

Lily keeps looking at Sirius, her frown set. In a glimpse, Sirius sees her fingers twitching to her pocket, where he’s certain her wand is. _Fuck_. His own wand is in his boot, too far to not be hit by one of her spells before he can even go halfway down.

Sirius frowns at Remus’ words and shakes his head. _What is Remus playing at?_

“What the hell does he think he’s doing?” Sirius directs his thoughts to Lily, talking from between his teeth. She looks back at him, blankly. “This is the dumbest decision I’ve ever heard of. Why would he just - bring you here? It’s basically telling me how this whole _business_ works!” he says again.

Lily looks at him for a second, her green eyes checking his face before she smiles slowly.

“It’s exactly what it is,” she responds.

Sirius looks back at Remus, stumped, but he just rolls his eyes, before raising his hand to ask for his coffee. “I’m just showing you my hand, Sirius. I’m tired of hiding it. Now you can do whatever you want with this information - after all, you were going to get some pretty personal details on Tuesday that were going to make you come to the same conclusions,” he says, as he receives his cup of coffee from the waiter’s hands.

“You were even going to hear about his laughter and how it makes people think like he’s choking all the time. It’s a pretty ridiculous way of identifying a suspect, but if we are going down, I’m willing to go down for his laughter,” Lily adds with a smile, before going back to sit at the table, where a cup of coffee is waiting for her too. 

Sirius really doesn’t know what to do with all of this. His brain feels overloaded, and his hands still tingle with the feeling of Remus’ heat under them. He frowns and looks back at Remus _and_ Lily as he tries to piece the questions together.

“You two… how? Why?”

“Remus here thinks you already know why we do it - social justice, Robin Hood complex, knowing the real pain from up close, call it whatever you want. He thinks you are conflicted because of the ethics of the case and you’ve been stalling to try to give us the chance to hide our tracks, so he believes - but _I don’t_ , because I actually know you, _Black -_ there’s a chance you would want to work with us. Not like a double agent, of course, but actually leaving the corruption nest that the Ministry is and try to do some real good,” Lily says after a sip of her drink. 

“What?” he asks, not knowing what to do with this information, feeling dizzy with everything being offered to him. “I’m not _stalling_ ,” he says defensively before something like realization hits him. “Fuck. Not on purpose, at least,” he adds, and then he eyes his lager, frost sliding down the glass. _Fuck it_ , he thinks, and he goes to pick it up, downing half of it in one gulp. 

He looks back at Remus, whose eyes are shining and almost feverish, and he feels himself tremble with expectation, excitement - desire too. 

They keep eye contact for what feels like an eternity.

“For fuck’s sake,” he hears Lily mutter, but his eyes remind on Remus, who raises his chin and licks his lips. “Would you two just - at least get out of here before you start fucking?” she says, and Remus just smiles mischievously at that, his eyes still on Sirius.

“Your play,” Remus says then, making Sirius groan, leave his glass on the table, and come to stand in front of him in two strides. 

He offers his hand to Remus, who takes it willingly. When he gets up, they are almost chest to chest, and Sirius finds it difficult to breathe. He looks deep into those brown, warm eyes, trying to find his answer.

He’s pretty sure he has known it from the moment he decided to come back here again and again.

“Apparition point?” he asks, breathless, almost against Remus’ lips.

Remus gestures with his head to the pub’s backdoor, and Sirius just nods, his grasp of Remus’ hand tightening as he turns and pulls him across the bar, not caring about anything else but getting out of there.

“Bye!” Lily chirps just as the backdoor closes behind them and the sound of the pub immediately fades. _Silencing spells_ , Sirius thinks idly, before turning on his heels to find Remus looking at him with flaming, vulnerable eyes. Before he can even think of _destination, determination, deliberation_ , he pushes Remus against the door they just closed, and with an impatient growl, he latches onto his mouth.

It shouldn’t be like this, but he feels completely at ease with Remus almost immediately. His mouth tastes like the disgusting coffee of the pub, but his tongue makes him shiver with its heat. Sirius feels any doubt he had left melt to the ground as Remus exhales against his cheek and pulls him closer by the shoulders. Sirius lets himself go, and in just a couple of minutes, he’s already panting, struggling to breathe as Remus nips and bites at his neck. His hips push forward tentatively then, and Remus makes the softest of sounds in the back of his throat before moving his hands to the hem of his trousers and pulling him closer so that their hips line up.

“Fuck,” Sirius says, trying to breathe as he takes Remus’ face in his hands to make him look at him. Remus looks gorgeous with his mouth reddened and his eyes shining, and Sirius thinks about the humanity in them, the vulnerability in Remus’ laughter, and how he let Sirius take him out here, where he could apparate them straight into the Auror’s office. 

Sirius has to kiss him again.

“Can we go to your place?” Remus asks then, pulling back a bit at the same time he brings Sirius’ hips even closer, making Sirius’ leg accommodate between his own. Sirius’ cock jumps at the feeling of Remus’ dick against his thigh, rubbing against him as Remus breathes desperately.

“Is your house too messy?” he jokes in a low voice, making Remus snort. They know perfectly well what might be back at Remus’ place that makes it inadequate for them to go there - but they also know that this is Remus putting all his trust in Sirius, even though he has a pureblood surname and can put him in Azkaban if he does so wants to, or if he decides to do what he’s supposed to do.

He certainly doesn’t want to do any of that. 

After a couple of minutes of them pulling and pushing against the other, Sirius grabs Remus’ shoulders and rearranges their legs to keep touching, but without Remus humping him - it’s proving to be too distracting for him to manage to apparate, and even though the pressure of Remus’ cock against his own is _also_ distracting, at least the more direct contact makes him feel like _this is absolutely real_ and they don’t need to rush. “Give me a second to focus so I can apparate us there,” he says as he looks to the sky, long and suffering.

And then Remus _laughs_ with that ugly, breathy, high-pitched sound, and Sirius can’t stop the gigantic smile that comes to his face at the sight of this man - this man that he thought was all books and coolness and jumpers and _justice_ \- snorting and coughing and turning redder and redder as he can’t control the bout of laughter.

_He’s fucking adorable_ , Sirius thinks, as he grabs Remus’ face and tries to kiss him again on his open mouth, making Remus laugh even harder before he surrenders with a soft “hmmm” and moulds his mouth to Sirius’.

They kiss lazily this time. Sirius is not sure how long they stay there, but they don’t stop, nor let things go further until a loud _crack_ of an apparition startles them.

Sirius blinks as Remus pulls apart - just a couple of inches since the door is at his back - and smiles at the person at Sirius’ back. Sirius looks over his shoulder and sees a grinning red-headed man. _One of the Prewetts_ , he thinks. The twins were way older than Sirius and likely to get into illegal business based on the rumours that went around back in school. He never knew either of them very well though.

“Good on you, boss,” the guy says and he winks. “Don’t worry about me, I’ll just turn around and wait for you to er, finish. I just need to get in, but no rush!” he says with a chuckle before turning around to face a wall, like a school child.

“Don’t worry, Fab, we were just leaving,” Remus says, and he puts his arms around Sirius’ shoulders again, and pushes his forehead against Sirius’, before muttering, “Can you take us there now?” 

Sirius can’t resist the temptation of pecking Remus’ mouth shortly before nodding. He closes his eyes and puts his arms around Remus’ waist, pulling him away from the door - just in case, because he doesn’t want to take any piece of it home. He takes a couple of deep, steadying breaths, focusing on his well-worn beige carpet and the smell of the plants by his living room window.

When he opens his eyes again, Remus is blinking in front of him. His brown, warm eyes dart to look curiously around, before looking back at Sirius, smiling, and pushing then their mouths back together.

\---

They stumble into Sirius’ bedroom, not without standing by a wall to kiss and palm each other over their clothes first. They sigh and moan and even laugh, as Sirius’ hair tickles Remus, and Remus’ weird laughter makes Sirius incredibly happy. Remus bites Sirius’ bottom lip and has Sirius’ shirt pulled up in record time, leaving it under his armpits so he can mouth at his torso. Sirius fumbles with Remus’ belt and shoves his hand under his underwear after Remus hums in agreement when he asks him if he could touch his cock. He himself gets incredibly hard at the question and the idea of having Remus panting with his honest eyes on him as he touches his cock. 

When they get to the bedroom, they only have to pull off all their clothes that are already half-undone, crinkled and impairing their movements. They fall onto the bed with an ease that they shouldn’t have for their first time, but that it’s there, nonetheless.

Remus sucks him off slowly, licking long stripes and then swallowing him completely before kissing the head of his cock with his wet, reddened lips, and then licking his balls. He keeps a steady rhythm, his mouth moving up and down as he breathes deeply, muffling his own moans against Sirius’ cock - Remus is hard, and Sirius looks with desperation between his own cock disappearing in Remus’ mouth and Remus’ cock, almost against his belly. Remus’ hands are alternately playing with his balls or caressing his thighs, making Sirius grunt and moan - he feels like he’s been on the edge for hours already, but he keeps stopping Remus over and over again, even though Remus whimpers and tells him he wants him to come down his throat. Sirius just grunts again as his hips shoot forward, and he licks his own lips as he tries to calm his heart.

“Do you want to fuck me?” Remus asks then, after kissing his shaft one more time, looking him up from his elbows-and-knees position, and Sirius moans at that but shakes his head.

“Later,” he says, squeezing and pulling at Remus’ shoulder until he gets the message and climbs over Sirius’, his body still hovering over Sirius, so that they can kiss again, “Later,” he repeats, “Tonight - or tomorrow; fuck, next week maybe,” he says against Remus’ lips, as his hand comes down to ghost his fingertips slowly up and down Remus’ cock. Remus moans at that and kisses his neck with desperation. Sirius’ hand leaves his cock, his whole palm slowly sliding through Remus’ skin until he gets to his back, where both his hands grab Remus’ butt and push him down so that they end hip to hip, rutting against each other. His cock is still a bit wet although quickly getting dry with the air. He doesn’t care, and for a couple of minutes, he just growls and grunts as he pushes against Remus’ belly, feeling Remus’ cock sliding next to his, soft and silky and making him lose his mind. 

Without thinking, one of his hands keeps pushing Remus’ against him in a steady rhythm, squeezing his ass, and the other moves up his back, feeling some of the scars that mare Remus’ flank.

“Mh, are you one of those people that have a bit of a kink for them?” Remus breathes into his ear, before licking and biting his lobe, making Sirius’ head fall back, pushing against the pillows.

“Not really,” he says breathlessly with a small chuckle, feeling raw and open as he can be completely honest with Remus, “I just want to get to know every inch of your body - you are absolutely gorgeous, you know?” he says, before squeezing Remus’ butt once more before pushing up with his whole body, making Remus’ fall back on his bed, so he can lash his lips over his torso.

“I don’t know about that,” Remus moans from under him, pulling his arms up to rest his head on them. “But hell, I really want you to fuck me now,” he says, licking his lips, and Sirius’ hips jerk forward at those words, burying his cock in the already sweaty sheets.

“Shit,” Sirius can only answer as one of Remus’ hands comes to start jerking himself, as Sirius’ bites on his ribs, on his waist, and softly nibbles on a nipple. "I feel I'll come in two seconds, like a fucking teenager," he says finally, laughing a bit. 

Remus' hand stutter on his cock, as his back curves away from the bed and he mutters, "Fuck, yes," so Sirius takes the opportunity to push Remus’ hand away and grab his cock with his own hand. In one fluid motion, he slides down and puts Remus’ dick in his mouth, a long appreciative moan at the salt-and-bitter taste of pre-come getting caught against Remus’ penis.

"Not fair," Remus says, pillowing his head over both his arms again to look down, bewildered, at how Sirius' head bobs on his lap. "You didn't let me… fuck… make you come before, and now…" he says, gasping. "Fuck, you look so good doing that," he says, laughing softly with his hiccuping laughter.

"Still want me to fuck you?" Sirius says, pulling away but keeping a steady rhythm with his hand. He smiles proudly at Remus, who nods as his breathing turns more elaborate. Sirius pushes his thighs back then with both his hands, delicately at first to gauge Remus' reactions, but putting more weight as he returns him a pleased look. Sirius pushes his torso forward to kiss Remus heatedly. "Too bad for me - I really wanted you to fuck me. I guess we'll have to leave that for another day," he says against Remus' mouth before resuming their kiss, their tongues tangling with desperation.

Remus curses under his breath when they part. He adds something more that Sirius doesn't understand - it sounds weirdly like a spell.

"Yeah, later, later, whatever you want, I’ll give it to you," Remus says, already a bit gone - his pupils are blown up and he smells like sweat and sex already, Sirius thinks as he sinks his nose on his neck. Remus lets his head fall back on the pillows after his mouth tried to chase Sirius'.

“Gimme a second,” Sirius says, starting to go get up to go for the lube, but Remus shakes his head, and Sirius raises an eyebrow, smirking. “Oh?” he can only utter, before his brain shuts itself down, as Remus grabs one of his hands and takes it to his mouth to kiss his fingers, and then pushes them down to his ass.

“You are a wizard,” Sirius says as he suddenly understands, at the same time that one of his fingers slides into Remus’ easily.

“Mhm,” Remus moans as he pushes against Sirius’ index finger, his hands grabbing his knees to stay in position. “Half-blood. Changed our surname after I was bitten,” he says half-laughing, half-breathless, as Sirius pulls away to have a better angle to work a second finger in. Remus just lets his head fall back, as he grabs his knees to keep his legs in position. “Just fuck me already, Sirius,” Remus begs after a bit, grabbing Sirius’ wrist to stop the fingers fucking him.

Sirius surges forward to kiss him again as he pulls his fingers away. His cock rubs against Remus’ ass as their mouths bite and nip each other. He slows down for a bit, kissing Remus deeply and thoroughly then, trying to memorize the feeling of their breaths hitching at the same time, at how Remus pulls his hands slowly from his knees, through Sirius’ flanks, to finally settle on his shoulders. He tries to memorize how the weight of Remus’ arms feels against his blades.

“Condom?” Sirius asks, dizzy and breathless.

“Protection charm. It comes with the pack - with the cleaning, lub, and prep spells,” Remus says, wiggling his eyebrows and making Sirius laugh and kiss his shoulder, overwhelmed by a warm feeling for this man that he’s just getting to know and is already brilliant. “Come on now,” Remus urges him again, brushing their noses in such a sweet gesture, that Sirius feels his heart beating uncontrollably. He kisses the corner of Remus’ mouth as he nods and pulls away, grabbing a pillow to put under Remus’ hips to get a more comfortable angle, before grabbing his cock and slowly, slowly, pushing into Remus.

Remus’ hand shoots towards Sirius’ arm by his hip, and he squeezes it as he moans and mumbles a litany of _yes_ , _fuck yes, slow down a bit, yes, like that, oh my god, you feel so good_. Before he even bottoms up, Sirius is right there with him, cursing with his _Merlin I want you, you are perfect._

He starts thrusting slowly, experimentally, trying to make it last. He can’t keep his eyes in only one place, because Remus’ face is flushed and his mouth half-open, and his body is shining with sweat, and he’s hard and leaking against his own belly; his eyes also get caught on the point where his cock disappears into Remus’ body, too perfect for him. He pushes forward a bit harder, and Remus' mouth just falls open as he moans, unashamed, so Sirius has to push forward harder, as he adjusts himself to kiss Remus’ shoulder and neck. 

He tries - he really, _really_ tries - to balance his weight on only one arm to jerk Remus off with his left hand, but the emotions are too overwhelming and he already feels like he’s run a marathon and like his orgasm is too close, so he just manages to mutter against Remus’ skin “Can you touch yourself?” and Remus nods, feverish, and slides one arm around Sirius’ back to keep him close, and he sneaks his hand between them to bring himself off. Just the feeling of Remus’ hand pulling methodically at his cock has him grunting and pushing his cock faster and deeper into Remus, trying to make him feel as good as he does.

Sirius is not sure about how time works then, because he’s been thrusting deep into Remus for what feels like an eternity, and Remus moans and moves under him, and this feels incredibly _right_ , so time seems to elongate and his orgasm fades away to give space to an overwhelming feeling of belonging. He goes fast, and then slow, and he sucks at Remus’ neck as Remus tries to raise his hips to meet his rhythm. He never thought that the mechanical in-and-out of sex could feel like this with a new partner - like they understand what the other want, what the other needs, how fast, how hard, and when to slow down and kiss deeply, roughly, until the pull in their bellies make them pull away to breathe in each other’s mouth, calling each other’s name. Sirius fucks Remus without having to think about technique, but just abandoning himself in every push that feels like it sends him deeper into Remus’ body.

“Fuck, I’m close,” Remus says against his lips, panting, and Sirius can only grunt and keep going, the imminence of his own orgasm hitting him like a wave. Remus groans and then throws his head back, his mouth wide open and his eyes close as he comes between them, hot and messy.

“Fuck, Remus,” Sirius says, as he pushes back, his torso back up so he can grab Remus’ legs and push them back a bit again. He thrusts deep and hard half a dozen more times, Remus repeating his name under him in a feverish rhythm, before his orgasm grounds him in the moment; _present, there, there, there with Remus,_ more present than he’s felt in years.

When he manages to open his eyes, Remus is blinking up at him, a pleased smile in his face, so Sirius just slumps forward, letting go of Remus’ knees that he was holding onto for dear life.

“Oof,” Remus says against his ear, before laughing, and Sirius can’t even pull away to kiss him, so he contents himself with sinking his nose into his neck and breathing deeply there, giving a long _mmmmmm_ , tired and sated. 

“Well, that was… quite something,” Remus says after a beat sounding tired and happy, nuzzling against his forehead, leaving the faintest kiss there.

“Yeah,” Sirius says, finally finding the energy within himself to pull out carefully and move to lie down by Remus. He throws an arm that feels like it’s made of lead over Remus’ waist, and pulls him closer, kissing his shoulder. “Not sure if _quite something_ is good enough to describe it, but it’s a starting point.”

Remus turns his face and smiles brightly at him.

“Yeah. An amazing starting point,” he says, his eyes shining again with honesty and intent.

Sirius smiles and kisses Remus’ shoulder again.

\---

“We are childhood friends, Lily and I,” Remus says softly, after stretching in the bed and covering himself with the sheets. He sits up then to receive a cup of tea that Sirius offers him. “My father is a wizard, but he changed our surname after I was attacked by Greyback when I was a kid. He didn’t want him tracking me down again. When my letter to Hogwarts came, he didn’t let me go - too much attention, he said. A few years later, Lily learnt about my lycanthropy - I was found out by another neighbour of us, Severus Snape,” and Sirius growls at the name, so Remus' laughter makes its appearance again. “Yeah, I know about you and James Potter having a crappy relationship with him during your Hogwarts years. You were sort of my heroes for standing up to him,” Remus adds, as he stirs his tea with wandless magic - _wandless magic again? this man is just brilliant_ , Sirius thinks. “Anyways. He was jealous of my friendship with Lily and told her about me being a werewolf, but instead of being horrified about me, Lily made him swear to not reveal my secret to anyone else, and made it her personal quest to find a way to help me with the transformations. She also taught me as much magic as she learnt over the year, all summed up in those three months of summer. My dad taught me some too, but just the basics so that I wouldn’t blow the house up. Anyways, with time, when the Wolfsbane was perfected, Lily learnt how to make it for me, and it made such a big difference - but as the years went by, we realized it wasn’t enough to just help _me._ I visited werewolves camps, I met with Muggle-borns that were bitten later in life. It wasn’t fair to any other werewolf to not be able to access the Wolfsbane, especially poor people or Muggles. So as Lily got an absolutely decent job at an absolutely _acceptable_ herbology lab - not one of the big ones, of course, she’s too much of a Muggle-born to be accepted there, and they have never really cared about brains in any of those jobs, do they? -, well, as she did that, I learnt all that I could about business and wizard’s law and, well… you get the gist,” Remus says, shrugging then.

Sirius sits down by his side, deep in contemplation as he sips his tea. Remus waits for his to cool down.

“Well then,” Sirius says finally, putting his teacup on his nightstand. “I guess the first thing to do is for me to resign. You probably know from Lily that James and I are great at potions too, but I guess in this case, our talents are best at use somewhere else. James is already on his way to Wizengamot - the fucker has so much power already because of his family. He’ll jump to help us in no time, so that we can work out the laws to find the loopholes to make this business as legal as possible, and eventually, change the laws about lycanthropy and access to potions - so that there are exemptions in the statute of secrecy so that Muggle Werewolves can take some version of Wolfsbane, for example - but that’ll take time. In the meantime, his knowledge of Wizarding law is going to be perfect to at least make the recipe of Wolfsbane available to the public. As for me,” he says, and he raises his hand as Remus opens his mouth, frown already set. “You probably know I’m good with research. I can keep our tracks covered. I can make sure that any attempt from the Ministry to find us out dies as fast as it starts. I can help you with intelligence and counterintelligence. I would also love to discuss with Lily the innovations she is already making to the potion. And in my free time, I can keep you distracted as much as you want me to,” he says with a big smile, moving to kiss Remus squarely on the mouth and climb on Remus’ lap. Remus laughs and curses, as he throws the teacup to float in the air as he regains his balance.

“Well, I guess you have it all figured out,” Remus says with a big smile as he throws his arms around Sirius’ waist. “So, how are you going to prevent the Aurors from suspecting that the reason you are leaving is because you got tangled in the sheets with the main suspect of one of your cases?” 

Sirius accommodates himself over Remus and shrugs.

“I’ll just tell them I’m leaving because I’m tired of the corruption and that I don’t want to be trapped in my brother’s political schemes anymore. Then I’ll just lie low, tell them I’m moving to France for a bit to _try to find myself_. Don’t worry, I’ll be sneaky,” he says as he kisses Remus’ jaw. “And how dare you to call _this_ getting tangled in the sheets with you - you know it was the conversation about Muggle literature that got me,” and as Remus laughs, he nuzzles against his neck. “That, and the absolute berserk thing that you call your laughter,” he adds, starting to laugh too as he pushes Remus down on the bed again.

“Fuck off,” Remus says, but without heat, before kissing him back. “Okay, but we’ll be careful, alright? Not only about this whole operation - but about us. I don’t want you to fuck this up as soon as you get tired of me,” he says, and his eyes are once again absolutely honest and vulnerable.

Sirius looks at his hair on his pillow, his brown eyes shining, and his lips, that Remus is already biting worriedly. 

“Remus,” he says, grabbing Remus’ hand with his own, and pulling it to his mouth to kiss the knuckles. “I’ve been thinking of leaving the Aurors for _months,_ if not years _._ I know that’s not the same as to jump straight into a criminal organization from there, but I promise you, I never cared for the laws - not back at school, not even during Auror training. I was almost dismissed because of that. I only care about what’s right, and about justice, and what you are doing - it makes sense to me. I want to help. I really do, and not only to _help you_. So yeah, if anything happens and _this,”_ he says, pointing between them, “doesn’t work… Well, you have to know, I’m not here because I’m already half gone for you. I’m getting into this because it is what I want. Because I’ve been meaning to find something like this for a long time. It’s because I can see how you are really impacting the world,” he says, honestly and heatedly. 

Remus nods solemnly at that, before cracking a smile.

“Alright, I trust you,” he says, pulling at their joined hands to kiss Sirius’ knuckles too. “Now, Mr Black. I think some more debauchery was offered previously?” he sniggers, as Sirius mutters _finally_ , and kisses him again.

When the teacup crashes to the floor, spilling tea everywhere, neither one of them even hear it.

They are too busy with other, much more relevant affairs.

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you liked it! I had fun writing this. This was for a Tumblr prompt "“You laughed in a restaurant but you have an ugly laugh and I thought you were choking, so I spent the last three minutes awkwardly humping you while performing the Heimlich maneuver” AU", but as you see here... I went wild with this.
> 
> The story referenced is "El hombre" (the man) from Juan Rulfo’s "El llano en llamas", translated as "the burning plain" or "the plain in flames." There are some other stories of that book referenced without detail.
> 
> The second book referenced is Gabriel García Márquez's "Cien años de soledad" (one hundred years of solitude), a classic in latinoamerican literature.
> 
> Follow me on [Tumblr!](https://wanderingbandurria.tumblr.com/)


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